


Retreat Red Hood

by ThatSoChangeableChick



Series: Red Hood Reflections [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Hurt, Missing Scene, Set After Batman Under the Red Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSoChangeableChick/pseuds/ThatSoChangeableChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Batman - Under the Red Hood, Bruce tries to reconcile with Jason. It doesn't go as he wished.</p>
<p>(More of a relationship study - to see how they react to one another in the months that followed Under the Red Hood)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat Red Hood

**Author's Note:**

> This is (I think) the most in character interpretation of Jason after the events of Red Hood that I've done so, I'm pleased with how it came out :D 
> 
> there will probably be a sort of sequel out later on today...so ENJOY!

Jason had expected this. “You found me,” he noted, huffed breath just shy of a snarl. Jason shook his head, gun already raised to the figure nonchalantly seated on his couch. With his weaker arm obviously, his other didn’t move too quick thanks to the stab in his neck. “Here to take me in, going to stop me before I do anything else you don’t like – you can’t bench me anymore you bastard!”

“I’m not turning you in, Jason,” he said. He didn’t even move, hands still bridging to hide his mouth and elbows on his knees.

Jason didn’t get the joke. “Then what, you going to talk me into your antiquated sense of morality? You already failed that Bruce! Get the hell out of my apartment before I shoot you full of lead!” His chest heaved, rasping against the new scarring taking out half his strength and Jason jabbed the gun forward, “You made me like this!”

Light finally reflected in Bruce’s deep blue orbs but Jason found was darkness, old and decaying darkness overwriting any warmth Jason had once found there. “No,” Bruce said, like it was simple, like it was fucking easy but then everything was too easy for the great Batman.

Jason snarled, “Then what! What? It’s been five goddamned hellish months since you chose the scumbag Joker over me! The Joker,” Jason spat, “You two are fucking perfect one another! Playing roles for each other like some bloodied foreplay – I’m betting you don’t even fucking care, right! Keeping that scumbag alive day in and day out, that garbage is a part of you now, isn’t he?” Jason towered over Bruce and hissed, “Can’t imagine yourself without him, can you?”

“I didn’t come to fight, son,” Bruce declared, voice harsh and edging into sharp territories.

Well, that had the opposite effect. “Son,” Jason laughed and the hair at the back of Bruce’s neck visibly simmered, “You got some fucking nerve calling me that! And I swear on your godforsaken mission I will destroy everything you hold dear if you don’t get your cloven hooves out of my house. Clear?” he mocked.

Bruce barely arched an eyebrow, “You don’t scare me, Jason,” he claimed.

“Scare you; I’m not trying to scare you!” Jason snapped. He was working into frenzy, overloading and his healing skin spliced and bled through his clothes. Bruce only observed, held back by will and resolve, “I’m telling you I’ll kill you!” Gun barrel knocked on Bruce’s forehead, “Get out!”

Bruce caught Jason’s anguished, wide teal stare with an immeasurable amount of strength. Nothing Jason threw at him terrified Bruce, nothing Jason was had any effect on Bruce but it did, Jason didn’t know that it did. “You won’t do that,” Bruce stated.

“Won’t I,” Jason scoffed but there were tears glinting, threatening to fall. “Thought we already established we don’t mean jack squat to each other!”

“We do,” Bruce snapped, all his patience fried though it wasn’t rage shining in his orbs but heartache, “Goddam it Jason!” He shook head, claws gripped the arm rests and he forcefully inhaled, as if to prepared himself and Jason instantly balked. “I came to talk – we need to talk,” his eyes flickered to catch Jason’s, “Like rational minded human beings, Jason. We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing rational about this,” Jason hissed, but it was lower, not as screamingly tortured.

Bruce softened, understanding Jason’s implication. “I know but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be,” Bruce lectured, like they were facing Gotham’s insane criminals together, side by side all over again. Jason staggered backwards; head shaken and bitter bile regurgitating up his throat.

Jason couldn’t get sucked in again, he wouldn’t last – wouldn’t make it.

“Please Jason,” Bruce pleaded and Jason shook his head, it wasn’t possible, it wasn’t predicted – this wasn’t predicted. Jason worked on instinct, was a creature of instinct and the most basic blared in his skull – fight or flight or freeze.

Jason never froze and he wouldn’t start now – that’s how you died on Gotham’s streets. But there wasn’t any fighting the Batman, Jason wouldn’t ever be able to escape not like this. Only one more option right…

“He’s alive,” Bruce stated, aware of Jason’s plans and overriding them as per usual. “Dick, he’s alive and so are you – nobody has to die,” Bruce declared, like a foresworn promise and Jason would fall at his feet all over again, would be shrouded in the protection of his large cape.

Jason scoffed, “You think I give a damn about the Golden Boy, did that shtick and I ended up with my head caved in.” He snarled out, “Don’t you dare say he was my brother – I barely knew his ugly mug, I was his replacement and that’s it. Fell short, didn’t I?” Jason cackled, “Hell, Dicki-Bird survived his explosion!”

“You were never his replacement Jason…” Bruce insisted.

Bruce lied. Jason laughed, “Ha! You got that right, never could live up to his legacy, could I? Not that you didn’t try to beat it into me,” Jason hissed into Bruce’s ear, his bloodied cheek smearing droplets over Bruce’s stubble.

Bruce only moved as so far to catch the demented, broken visage of the bright, lively and traumatized child he’d taken in. “You said you wanted to talk Bruce,” Jason hissed, “Well, we just did. No wonder you’d rather punch people to agree with you!” He curled a lip, “You’re crappy at this talking shit,” Jason informed.

Bruce’s shoulder hardened, in that sense that they wished to slouch and fall but Bruce wouldn’t allow it. It wasn’t as satisfying as Jason anticipated but everything Jason ever wished for fell short when reality bashed his head in with crowbar.

Jason shook his head. He didn’t even have to use his gun, “And course someone had to die. It’s all about your tragedy, your crusade, your mission, your godforsaken rules: don’t worry your bat ears over it but someone already died.” Jason thumbed his chest, “Me. And I’m not living on your scraps anymore.”

When Jason turned his back, Bruce didn’t comment and when Jason abandoned the apartment he’d recuperated in, Bruce didn’t reach out to him. Guess Bruce didn’t want to drop handouts anymore either.

**Author's Note:**

> Jason's a dramatic little shit [Iloveit] and THANK YOU FOR READING


End file.
